


Not Open to Interpretation

by jdjunkie



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Jealousy, M/M, Porn Battle, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 18:07:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/652989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdjunkie/pseuds/jdjunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No mistaking who was in charge here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Open to Interpretation

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle XIV to the prompts territorial, hurried and silent.

The interpreter leaned in close as Daniel conversed with the alien leader. Too close for Jack’s liking. And there was no need for the casual touch on Daniel’s shoulder or the dip of the guy’s head which allowed his striking long red hair to brush the side of Daniel’s neck either.  
  
No need at all.  
  
Jack hated his job.  
  
>>>>  
  
Ceremonial dinners were the bane of Jack’s life. He was the CO, he should have been at the top table with the head honchos. Instead, he was two tables away, stuck with some wizened old guy who thought Jack would just love to hear all about the planet’s industrial history. Meanwhile, long-haired, beautifully-built interpreter guy, who Jack was sure had engineered the seating plan for this little soiree, was attending to Daniel’s every need, re-filling his wine goblet, passing the salt, or whatever it was, making sure his fingers _accidentally_ touched Daniel’s.  
  
Jack’s hand clenched on the fruit Carter had just handed him. The mango-a-like fell apart, the juice and soft, sweet flesh dribbling from his fingers. Jack liked to imagine it was interpreter guy’s brains.  
  
>>>>  
  
Daniel was saying goodnight to the council leader, nodding animatedly and smiling as the interpreter did his thing, speaking soft and low. Bowing and hand gestures ensued as deals were reiterated and promises made.

Then interpreter guy laid a hand at the small of Daniel’s back.  
  
And then Jack couldn’t see anything at all. The red mist will do that to a guy.  
  
>>>>  
  
Unfff.  
  
Too loud. Mustn’t upset the hosts.  
  
“Quiet,” Jack whispered. “Not a fucking sound.”  
  
Pinned against the wall of the guest quarters Jack shared with Daniel, Daniel nodded, his face mashed hard into what might have been the alien equivalent of wattle and daub. Old historian guy from the dinner would know. Jack hardly cared. He was too busy pressing the front of his body against Daniel’s strong back. He pressed harder, the full length, letting Daniel feel his strength. No mistaking who was in charge here.  
  
Jack’s cock was hard, leaking, as he shoved it against Daniel’s ass. The thickness and roughness of two sets of BDUs was delicious, the friction perfect as Jack ground harder and harder, hips thrusting.  
  
Daniel’s hands scrabbled at the wall for purchase, his fingers so expressive, as if he were talking, moaning, groaning with them. He let out a stifled grunt.  
  
“I said be quiet. He’s out there, Daniel, listening. That guy? He so wanted to fuck you. So wanted to have your ass. Bet he’s got his dick in his hand right now thinking of fucking you like this.”  
  
Daniel buried his head in his bent forearm and muffled a deep moan.  
  
Jack fumbled one-handed with his fly, desperate to release his cock, and breathed out a relieved sigh when he finally had it in his hand, skin hot and a little raw from the rubbing. God, it felt good.  
  
“Pants. Off. Now,” he ordered, breathing hard into Daniel’s hair, pausing long enough to lick and bite that beautiful lobeless ear. Daniel shivered. It always made him shiver. Jack smiled. He knew what Daniel liked.  
  
Daniel’s hands shook as he pushed down his pants and braced against the wall. Jack checked; Daniel’s dick was hard. He was so ready. He wanted this. Interpreter guy was the foreplay. Sweet.  
  
Alien vanilla-scented massage oil -- their hosts had thought of everything -- made great lube and Jack slid home easily. No need for fingers; this morning’s pre-mission shower fuck at home had seen to that. Foresight was a beautiful thing. _Daniel_ was a beautiful thing, and he was Jack’s. A little reminder of that never hurt. Jack loved to stake his claim and Daniel loved to be claimed. There was something so fucking perfect about that.  
  
Jack pushed in and held, held, right there, right there, then pulled out half way, then in again, all the way. He pushed in as far as he could, his ass clenching until the muscles ached and burned. Christ. It was heaven.  
  
“Mine,” he whispered, mouthing Daniel’s hair, the soft, short strands tickling his lips.  
  
Daniel nodded. He was. Completely. Jack knew it. He just had to feel it.  
  
Spreading his legs wider, Daniel started to reach for himself but Jack batted his hand away, taking the beautiful, leaking cock in his hand. He stroked in time to his own thrusts. “He’ll never know this,” Jack ground out, “Never have you. Never fuck you the way I fuck you. Never make you come.”  
  
Daniel scratched at the wall, fingers clenched and shaking. He was close, so close.   
  
“Wanna come?” Jack asked.  
  
Daniel turned his head to the side and Jack saw him mouth the word “please” with trembling lips.  
  
And that was enough. Jack shoved hard, once, twice and came, aware as he pumped deep into Daniel’s body that Daniel was coming too, hot, sticky fluid dripping through Jack’s fingers. He kept stroking the still hard cock, gently. Daniel liked that.  
  
Jack panted hard, braced them both against the wall as their breathing returned to normal and gentled his stroking until he simply held the beautiful spent dick in his hand.  
  
Daniel hadn’t made a sound but his submission had spoken loud and clear. Daniel was his.  
  
Interpreter guy could shove it.  
  
In any language.  
  
ends


End file.
